


The World Owes Us Nothing

by lesbianophelia



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, TiMER (2009)
Genre: F/M, arranged marriage fic, you don't have to have seen timer to get this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-10 13:50:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianophelia/pseuds/lesbianophelia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“'You still go to school,' he tries again. 'I guess I thought you were closer to Katniss’ age.'</p><p>She raises her eyebrows. 'It’s only for the next couple of weeks, and I’m hardly the only one who’s already signed. So unless you plan on having me barefoot and pregnant within the next month, I think we should make it.'"</p><p>(Gadge offshoot of an Everlark fic I've been working on for a thousand years. In Panem AU, no games. Title from "Joyful Girl" by Ani DiFranco.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [swishywillow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swishywillow/gifts).



> As promised in the tags, you don't have to have seen Timer to understand this fic. Basically, in Timer, there are biotechnological implants that count down to the day that you meet your one true love. In this AU, I changed some things to make it a bit more Panem, but the idea is the same. The Capitol makes matches and at the age of twelve, citizens are equipped with timers that count down to the eighteenth birthday of the youngest member of the pairing, where they meet for a private appointment at the Justice Building to get married.

He’s already there when she comes. He’s sitting on the bench that faces the doors, eyes fixed on his timer even though it stopped counting down at midnight. It’s better than looking at the doors.   
  
It doesn’t help, though. Every time he hears the doors creak open, his head snaps up to look. This gets particularly tiresome after the fourth Peacekeeper comes back from his lunch break. He can’t help himself, though. Posy had gotten sick and it had devastated his mother, but they both knew that she had to stay home with her. It was weird to see her get all emotional over seeing him in the clothes his father married her in. So he tells himself that it’s fine that she couldn’t come, because he’s not entirely sure how he would have managed seeing her cry again.    
  
Still, he notices it when the doors open again. And when Madge Undersee, out of every girl in the District, is the one to walk through them. She’s in this white dress that must be ridiculously expensive and has her hair braided up with a pink ribbon, which would be bad enough by itself, but pinned to the dress is a gold pin. Just from looking at it he can tell that it’s real, and masterfully crafted, too. A pin like that could keep his family in bread for _months_.  
  
He stands up, and he’s just moving to offer her the seat when her eyes meet his. And her timer goes off. It doesn’t take long for his to join in, filling every space that hers leaves off. Her eyes widen in what must be alarm. He thinks that it should probably be funny, except it isn’t. Why in the world does she look so much like one of the animals he found this morning?   
They stand in silence for a moment after the song is finished.   
  
“Pretty dress,” he says.   
  
Madge shoots him a look and he wonders what sort of a lecture he would be in for if his mother was here. It _is_ a pretty dress. He’s just never seen her in anything like it. She presses her lips together tightly for a second and then smiles. “Well, I didn’t know who I was going to meet here.”   
  
As if to prove her point, she looks him up and down. It’s unnerving, really. She’s somehow already gotten a grasp on the situation, because her face is completely void of anything other than scrutiny. He squirms a little bit before he can help himself, uncomfortable, and a corner of her mouth pulls up into a smile that’s dangerously close to a smirk.   
  
“Well then,” she says, straightening up a little bit. He’s impressed that it’s even possible, considering the way that her shoulders had already been set. It makes him stand up a little bit straighter, too, though. Just in case. “We should probably get in line.”   
  
  
It takes him longer than it probably should to come up with something to say, but he doesn’t exactly have a lot of experience with Madge Undersee outside of bringing her strawberries when they’re in season and that isn’t the best thing to talk about in the middle of a crowded Justice Building.   
  
“So you’re eighteen now?” he asks, and he regrets it instantly because she laughs before she can cover it with a cough.   
  
“Well, I should hope so,” she says. “Do you know something that I don’t?”   
  
He bites his bottom lip, trying to think of something better. It would certainly be easier if Katniss was the sort of person to talk about her friends. All he really knows about Madge is that Katniss seems to like her enough, and while that’s a bigger compliment than you would think, it’s still not a lot to go off of.   
  
“You still go to school,” he tries again. “I guess I thought you were closer to Katniss’ age.”   
  
She raises her eyebrows. “It’s only for the next couple of weeks, and I’m hardly the only one who’s already signed. So unless you plan on having me barefoot and pregnant within the next month, I think we should make it.”   
  
He only sees it for an instant before she bites her lips together to hide it, but she _does_ smile at the look on his face. How he’s supposed to survive being married to someone like this, he isn’t entirely sure, but he figures it’s probably a good thing that she’s teasing him already. At least, he hopes it is.   
  
He finds himself studying her while they wait in line. He’s never been a fan of blondes in specific. Not knowing everything that they represent in District Twelve. Her hair is sort of pretty, though. Not stick straight like the girls in the Seam but curling slightly around her shoulders. Another dead giveaway of just how very _merchant_ she is would be her eyes. But even with the blue, there’s this way that she narrows them at him when she catches him looking that’s almost like something he would see in the Seam.   
  
“What?” she finally asks.   
  
“Nothing,” he says.   
  
“You were staring,” she insists. “You could at least tell me what you think. Ugh. As long as it’s not about how much I look like my father.”   
  
“You don’t,” he tells her. “Look like your father, I mean. You have a lot more hair.”   
  
This earns him a laugh. A real, loud one paired with a smile that makes the skin around her eyes crinkle as she reaches up to touch her hair. “Thanks, Gale. You’re not so bad yourself, you know.”   
  
  
  
They’re called next and as he watches her sign the forms, he’s glad that he had her go first. Her signature is all looping and flowing and _cursive_ and he’s almost embarrassed to write his name beside it. She doesn’t seem to notice his handwriting though. Or if she does, she’s nice enough not to comment on it.   
They work like a well oiled machine after the first few. There are tons of documents that need signing and she’s good about sliding them over to her as soon as she’s finished signing hers. He looks up when there’s a lull between papers and catches her reading one of the documents and chewing on her lip.   
  
“Hey,” he says, and she looks almost startled when she looks up at him. “You okay?”   
  
“Fine.”   
  
He can’t help but to glance over at the paper she’s working on anyway. It seems to be the last one, which makes sense once he sees that it’s the name change form.   
  
“Hawthorne is with an e at the end, right?” she asks, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear.   
  
He nods before he realizes that it’s strange for her to know that. 


	2. Chapter 2

There’s only one thing left to do, and even though he’s sure that they both know it, Madge keeps looking over at him as if he’s supposed to make the first move. So he does.   
  
“You wanna go ahead and get it over with, then?” he asks, nodding towards the Peacekeeper on duty.   
  
She actually _snorts_. “Gale Hawthorne, you are a real romantic. Has anyone ever told you that?”   
  
He gapes at her. She wants _romance?_ They’re just numbers in the Capitol’s system. She can’t possibly believe any of this, can she? There’s a sparkle in her eye that tells him that she doesn’t.   
  
“But yes, I do want to get it over with,” she says.   
  
  
Her lips are soft. Softer than he really thought that lips could be. She’s not bad at kissing, either. A girl like Madge Undersee, well, Gale would have expected her to be at least a little bit stiffer than she is. But she doesn’t seem to mind it too much, kissing him.   
  
Her timer begins to play again. The same tune as before. They both know the rules, both know better than to try to pull away before it’s done playing. Hesitantly, he wraps his arms around her back. The end of her braid brushes against his hands, and he’s a little impressed by how soft it is. Probably made that way by conditioner he hopes she knows he won’t be able to buy for her.   
  
  
The house that they’re assigned is in town. Of course, it is. Nobody in the Capitol would put the mayor’s daughter in some grimy Seam house.   
  
She’s not surprised by the address either. A girl like Madge probably spent her entire life _expecting_ a house right in the middle of town. It only makes sense, with the broadcasts her father has to make with his pretty daughter and wife sitting in the background, that they wouldn’t want her covered in coal dust. Not that Gale ever watched those.  
  
  
“Is your mother okay?” she asks quietly once they’re on their way to the new place. He doesn’t realize that he’s shooting her a look until a moment too late. “It’s just . . . you all seem so close. I figured she’d be here.”   
  
“You got room to talk?” he asks.   
  
Though her cheeks sort of flush, she doesn’t break eye contact with him. “My father is in the Capitol for work and my mother isn’t feeling well.”   
  
He can’t help but to feel bad for snapping at her. She’s curious, is all. He just can’t imagine what would possess her to bring his family up. “I’m sorry. Really. Posy – my sister –”   
  
“I know,” she interrupts.   
  
“She’s been sick these last few days. Nothing too bad, just a fever. It just about killed my mom, not being able to come. She’s probably jumping out of her skin by now, wanting to meet you.”    
  
“You wanted your mom to be here, then,” Madge says. It’s not a question.   
  
“Of course I did,” he says. “And you wanted the mayor to be here, didn’t you?”   
  
She sort of smiles. “I wanted my dad to be here. Not the mayor.”   
  
He’d like for _his_ dad to be there, too, but he doesn’t tell her that. Instead he hands her the piece of paper with their address printed on it. “You know how to get here, right?”   
  
She smirks. “You told them that you did know how to get there. Right after we _got it over with_ , remember?”   
  
He doesn’t have an answer for her.   
  
“Gale Hawthorne, lying to a Peacekeeper. What is the world coming to?”   
  
“Stop saying my name like that,” he says, and when she grins, he knows it won’t be the last time.

  
They both pause for a moment when they get inside, looking around. She’s probably just trying to figure out whether or not it will be big enough.   
Gale has seen the inside of her house once or twice through the door when he sold his strawberries. He isn’t entirely certain, but he thinks that their kitchen alone had been as big as his house. And then Madge had gone and given him an unobstructed view when she left to get the money, and he couldn’t help but to notice the photos on the wall. All in frames. Most of Madge, documenting her at different ages.   
He’s never seen a picture of himself as a baby. He didn’t even think it had really bothered him. He was wrong. But hey, at least they printed out that picture of Madge standing awkwardly beside him after they had kissed and slipped it into the envelope for them.   
  
Madge is used to the size of the house much more quickly than he is. He watches out of the corner of his eye as she picks up one of her boxes and heads up the stairs.

  
  
“You’ve got to see that bedroom,” Madge says when she comes down for her second box. He can’t help but to notice that she has a trunk, too, and beside his single box, it looks massive. “I have no idea what we’re supposed to do with all this space.”   
  
“Me neither,” he says, and then glances around again before he lifts the trunk up. She looks a little bit surprised but nods, says a quiet _thank you_ and heads for the staircase again. It’s heavy. He can’t help but to wonder what kind of stuff the girl has that she had to pack so much of it.   
  
She wasn’t kidding about the bedroom. He lets out a low whistle when he gets into it.   
  
“I know,” she says. “It’s massive.”   
  
“Where should I put this?” he asks, nodding towards the trunk. She flushes, as if she had forgotten that he was holding it.   
  
“Oh, um, I had it at the foot of the bed in my old room, so if that’s what you . . .” she trails off when he sets it down there. “Thank you, Gale.”   
  
He nods and heads down the stairs for his box. It’s not even all the way full. He wonders if he can get away with waiting to unpack it until she’s away. The thought is ridiculous, of course, considering the fact that she’s pretty much guaranteed to be _around_ for the rest of their lives.   
  
She’s steadily unpacking clothes and setting them on the floor when she comes back in, looking at the dresses spread out around her with a strange intensity.   
  
“You okay?” he asks.   
  
“I’m so bad at packing. I don’t even know where my hangers are,” she says. “It’s like I didn’t know how much time I had.”   
  
He was awful at packing, too, but not because he ran out of time. How was he supposed to pick out the clothing that he needed more than Rory and Vick would? “Yeah.”   
  
“Oh! Here they are!” she says, triumphantly holding up a fistful of little metal hangers. “I knew they were in here somewhere! Do you need some?”   
  
He shakes his head.   
  
“You’re sure? There’s more in the box, too. I swear, I took every hanger in the house.”   
  
“I’m fine,” he assures her, nodding towards the dresser before he adds, “I just need a drawer and I’ll be fine.”   
  
“Take your pick, then,” she says. “Which row do you want? I probably only need two or three. I can hang the rest, so you can have all the others.”   
   
He nods, knowing he won’t use the space.   
  
“What do you want for dinner?” she asks suddenly, standing up to hang a bunch of dresses. “I checked, and I think that if you’re planning a trip out to the woods soon, we’ll be able to buy some meat from the butcher to hold us over tonight.”   
  
He sort of raises his eyebrows. Maybe it shouldn’t come as such a surprise, considering the fact that she always wanted to buy his berries, but it’s still a surprise. “You _want_ me out in the woods?”   
  
She rolls her eyes at him, and it’s the only answer she’s willing to offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was working on the main fic for this, and when Prim mentioned Gale "turning out okay" I figured that I may as well expand on this a little bit.


End file.
